


all's fair in love & libraries

by call_me_steve



Series: a kinder world (than our own) [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: .03 milligrams of hurt/comfort, Accidental Brother Acquisition, Canon Divergence, Codes & Ciphers, Fluff, Gen, Jason Todd doesn't die, Jason Todd is Robin, Libraries, Well - Freeform, cute and soft, i think i forgot that batman existed for a moment, i've been doing that, it is so minor blink and you'll miss it, it's just, mentions of Bruce Wayne - Freeform, no beta we die like, not jason in this one, slight hurt/comfort??? barely any hurt/comfort???, there's a rip off zodiac killer mentioned in here, they are friends uwu, uh, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28371753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/call_me_steve/pseuds/call_me_steve
Summary: “Hey- excuse me,” says Jason, feeling affronted and insulted. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m kind of using this whole table.”The kid, as if he’d been previously lost in a haze, looks up and blinks. “I’m sorry."-In which, Jason's at the library trying to read. Some kid named Tim Drake sits down at his table and things bloom from there.(They talk about ciphers. Things are good.)
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: a kinder world (than our own) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077854
Comments: 28
Kudos: 482





	all's fair in love & libraries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghostfaeries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostfaeries/gifts).



> this is literally just cute. that's it. there's like,,,, a second or two of hurt/comfort but it's so literally /minor/ it's not even important. i might make this a series? no promises. 
> 
> this is also a gift for my friend, crow!! ily :) this was fun to write :)

Jason is in the library, trying not to glare at the group of girls sitting at the table across from him. They won’t quit giggling about something. Every so often, they spare a look towards him. It’s not hard to tell that they’re talking about him. That’s the exact reason his books span all the way around his own table- that way, no one can abruptly take a seat beside him. 

Jason just wants to sit and read, for Christ’s sake. Is that too much to ask? Besides. You’re supposed to be quiet in the library. It’s like no one else got that message except for him. 

As the girls continue to whisper, Jason flips another page in his book. He’s rereading Hamlet for no real reason beyond the fact that he wants to. (Although his teacher had said they’d be reading Hamlet later in the year, so it’s only proper he read some now.) Still, it’s hard to get in the right mindset for ghost fathers and avenge plots when there’s people talking around him. Jason’s seconds away from clapping the book shut and returning home to the Manor. 

There might’ve been a point where he’d thought that the school library would be a good idea to find some peace and quiet- now is not that point. He’d be better off working at home with Dick leaning over his shoulder. 

That’s, actually, a thought that he never thought he’d have. He loves Dick- he does. The life he has at the manor is one he never thought he’d get to have, if you caught him years ago. Bruce, Dick and Alfred- they’re people that he wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. Though, sometimes, he just imagined that he’d trade them for a little peace and quiet every once in a while. No big deal. 

Right now, though, he’d like to trade these two girls for Dick and the Manor. Then he’d trade them for some peace and quiet. That sounded fair. 

He flipped the page in his book on autopilot, before realizing he hadn’t read a single word of it. Jason flipped back to the previous page and stared at it, long and hard, wishing his attention would snap back into focus. Before that could slide into place, though, someone else did- right into the chair beside Jason’s elbow. 

It was a kid, no taller than Jason’s shoulders. His hair was in some sort of bowl cut- though Jason noticed that it was choppy. His bangs separated over his eyes and swept to the sides, only hardly reaching the middle of his ears. The ends all fell at different lengths- it was as if he’d grabbed some scissors himself and went at it. The cut itself starkly contrasted the kid’s outfit; an expensive watch sat on his wrist and he wore a polo shirt of sorts. There was a book clutched to his chest- one about ciphers and cracking codes. Clips of crisp white paper stick out of the pages, some with scribbles of words and others with random shapes. They look faintly familiar to Jason- if he wracked his brain, he might be able to place them. 

Instead of doing that, Jason feels his frustration flare in his chest. This was exactly why he’d piled so many books and papers around the table. The kid just shoves them aside like they were never even there and places his book down; Jason notes that he’d only made a tiny amount of space for himself. There was just enough for him to have his book out, open, in front of him. 

Did that make his intrusion better or worse? Jason wasn’t sure. 

“Hey- excuse me,” says Jason, feeling affronted and insulted. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m kind of using this whole table.” 

The kid, as if he’d been previously lost in a haze, looks up and blinks. “I’m sorry,” he says; he doesn’t move, though. He just sits and flips open his book on ciphers. Then, the kid begins scribbling onto a blank sheet of paper. 

Jason realizes that the kid’s not going to move. This is the better alternative, he supposes. At least he’s not making noise; at least he’s not trying to talk. It could have been one of the girls- who’ve actually stopped whispering for long enough that Jason had forgotten about them. He spares them no more than a glance, now, realizing that they’ve turned away thanks to the kid’s presence. 

Huh. 

Well, even on top of that- it’s not like he’s  _ bothering _ Jason. He’s hardly taking up any space. He’s not trying to interact, either. This kid- he’s just someone else looking for somewhere peaceful. Well- Jason’s managed to secure himself a quiet place thanks to this kid. It’s only fair he shares it. 

There’s a beat in which Jason simply allows his gaze to drift over to the kid. There’s not much more to him than what he’d noticed before; Jason can tell by his outfit that he’s from a better off family. His tennis shoes look expensive, yet slightly worn. Jason stops himself before he peaks down to his own shoes. They’re work boots; beat up to hell and back. Being beat up is just a sign of shoes being well loved, though. It’s also a sign of character. You’re either like Dick, (someone who has three million pairs of shoes), or like Jason, who wears one pair of shoes until they’re almost unwearable.

Pushing all thoughts of shoes aside, he notices how  _ pulled in _ the kid is, involving his work.  _ All _ of his attention is drawn towards the book before him; it only ever diverts when he jot or copy something down on a piece of paper. He’s quick and efficient and commands Jason’s attention with how fluent his work seems to be. 

_ He works like Bruce, _ Jason thinks, as he scoots his chair back soundlessly. He peers at the paper that the kid is working on and, again, finds it looking familiar. The longer he stares- now intent on knowing it- he recognizes it as a  _ popular _ unsolved cipher. It’s the Constellation Slayer’s cipher- the 340-cipher, actually. Jason recalls Bruce bringing it up, once, when he was being taught about common ciphers that the Riddler would use. 

_ “It remains unsolved, even to this day,” _ Bruce had told him.  _ “I’ve tried my own hand at solving it- I haven’t come close to cracking it. Maybe someday, someone will. It would help a lot of people, possibly, find closure.” _

Did this kid- this  _ little _ kid, much younger than Jason himself- think that he could solve the cipher himself? 

Jason, who’s never really had a filter involving this kind of stuff, finally decides to lean over and ask, “You really think that you can solve that?” 

The kid suddenly looked up, as if he’d been torn violently from his thoughts. “I’m sorry?” he repeated, this time as a question. When he looked up, he swept his hair out of his face. It fell back no more than seconds later; he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Do you really think you can solve the Constellation Slayer’s cipher?” asked Jason, again. 

“Yes.” 

The reply- so forward and deadset- puts Jason off-guard. He’s never heard a kid have such conviction in his life. At least, not about  _ this _ kind of thing. Certainly, it might be because Jason was raised around kids from Crime Alley and the Narrows; not around kids like  _ this _ one, who wear popular brands and-

Popular brands and expensive shoes... 

“Who are you?” 

“Who are  _ you?” _ returns the kid. 

_ Great,  _ Jason muses,  _ he’s a smartass. _

“I’m Jason Todd.”  _ Soon to be Wayne, actually, even though I’m almost sixteen. _ “Care to tell me who  _ you _ are?” 

The kid cocks his head to the side. “Todd as in Bruce Wayne’s newest  _ ward _ Todd? The one I see at all of those galas?” 

“I guess, yeah. How many other Jason Todds are there?” 

Now that the kid had withdrawn his hands- which were now sitting, folded, in his lap as he spoke- Jason could clearly see his meticulous notes. The handwriting was unmatched; slightly slanted, but clear and readable. 

As he skims over it he realizes: This kid has actually written down a handful of the letters. There’s no way of telling if they’re the right ones; there’s a few words on the page that actually make sense, though.  _ That’s _ the part that sends Jason’s brain into something of a tizzy. The word  _ gas chamber _ leaps out at him and shakes him to the core. That hadn’t ever come up during Bruce’s demonstration of the 340-cipher. 

“Not many,” says the kid, after a beat of silence. “I’m Tim Drake. It’s very nice to meet you.” 

_ It’s very nice to meet you _ falls flat, just as all useless platitudes do. That’s not what has Jason’s attention; neither do the ciphers, anymore. Rather, Jason finds himself focused on the kid-  _ Tim’s- _ name. Of  _ course _ he knows who the Drakes are. He’d be crazy not to, after all. Living with Bruce has introduced him  _ personally _ to all of the higher ups in Gotham society; living in  _ Gotham _ had given him insight to the Gotham higher ups on a different level. Jason knew the richest families in Gotham- the Drakes were no exception. 

Still. It comes as a surprise that Tim is his  _ neighbour. _ This is the same kid who lives in the mansion nearby. This is the same kid whose parents are the most stuck up rich folks in the city. 

Oh,  _ yikes. _

Well- that’s not really something Jason needs to focus on. They’re both the current children of extremely rich people. So what? It’s an overwhelming notion on a good day and it’s not like Jason  _ needs _ to bring it up. No; Jason, instead, chooses to scoot his chair a little closer to the table and to Tim. 

“So, what have you got?” 

_ That _ pulls open the gates; breaks down the dam;  _ destroys _ whatever was put in place by this kid when he’d first sat down. There’s no silence and, yet, Jason finds he doesn’t mind. He loses himself in Tim’s ranting; his explanations; his venting and his rambling. Jason learns about the possibility of misspellings in the cipher. He learns about how  _ hard _ it is to crack ciphers like this. 

He learns things that he’d never learn from Bruce, actually, and- 

Jason  _ likes _ it. 

He  _ likes _ hearing about the likelihood of these misspellings and how many different ways there are to  _ make _ your own cipher. It’s fascinating and it kind of makes Jason want to learn  _ more. _ Tim shows him what he has for the cipher- a few phrases here and there- and then, somehow, the two scoot their chairs a little closer and they begin making their  _ own _ cipher. Jason had the idea to run it through a handful of  _ other _ ciphers before they start; like switching around the letters. Then, with some paper produced from Tim, the duo begin making their own markings for each letter. 

The central message:  _ Have fun cracking this one, jackass.  _

(Jason had told Tim about Bruce’s own love of cracking ciphers; without, of course, telling him about  _ why. _ Then, Tim had suggested making Bruce a cipher he’d have to crack by themselves. That’s why they’re doing all of this, actually.) 

They finish and Jason finds himself smiling. It’s  _ brilliant; _ the sort of thing that Bruce will probably love, actually. He’s excited to give this to him and to watch him try to decode it. He’s so excited, in fact, that when he realizes that his book had shut and lost his place, he doesn’t  _ care. _ He can find it later; he can come back to this whenever he  _ wants. _

“I can  _ not _ wait to see Bruce’s reaction to this,” Jason finds himself saying, out loud. 

With a soft,  _ (melancholy), _ smile, Tim starts shuffling his papers together. He doesn’t really say anything; Jason gathers the message anyways. He thinks about it for a moment- the last thing he remembers hearing about the Drakes is that they’re out on a business trip. That means that there’s probably no one home, at the moment, at Tim’s place. 

Jason thinks about this kid returning home as  _ he _ comes home to Dick and Bruce and Alfred; Tim coming home to an empty mansion as Jason comes home to a busy manor. That doesn’t sound fair, in the grand scheme of things. And- listen. 

It was only fair that Jason allow Tim a sliver of his table; it’s only fair, now, that he allow the kid a sliver of his own life. 

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” asks Jason. “I mean- I can’t take all the credit.” 

Tim looks up. The look on his face is painted in confusion; Jason notices the slightest bit of  _ want _ lingering there and realizes he’s made the right call. Even as Tim begins to say, “I don’t think- I couldn’t-”, Jason starts slipping stray pieces of paper into his cipher book. Then, once he’s done, he scoops up Tim’s book and piles his own on top of it. He holds the book hostage; Tim is coming home with him if it’s the last thing Jason does. 

Tim continues his attempts to decline, even as Jason stuffs books and papers into his backpack. He slings it over his shoulder and slips his phone out of his pocket; when he notices the time, he realizes it’s  _ much  _ later than he’d thought it was. No one’s texted, though- nothing from Alfred letting him know that he’s coming to pick him up, nothing from Dick asking what he’s up to, and  _ definitely _ nothing from Bruce. At least they trust him to waste a few hours after school without worrying. 

_ I’ve got a friend coming over for dinner, _ Jason sends to Alfred.  _ Do you think you could pick us up? We’re at the library. _

Promptly, as Alfred always does, he sends back,  _ Of course. I will be there shortly. _

Shortly means no more than twenty minutes; knowing this, Jason carefully stacks all of his books on one arm and slings his other over Tim’s shoulders. 

“C’mon, Timbers,” says Jason. “Come have dinner with us. Bruce is gonna flip out over the cipher and he  _ needs _ to know that it was you who made it.” 

Tim seems to shrink, slightly, beneath his arm. It lasts for no more than a moment before he  _ sinks _ into it. Jason, who’d been about to pull his arm back, pulls Tim a little closer. He feels like this is exactly how they’re meant to be- no, actually- Jason feels as if he’s just found a new  _ brother. _

“Fair enough?” he asks, when Tim seems content to continue walking with him in silence. 

For a moment, Tim doesn’t reply. 

Then he looks up, a smile on his face, and says, “Fair enough.” 


End file.
